


Sniper in the City

by CasualDanger



Series: Sniper in the City [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - GTA, Fake AH Crew, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-25
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-18 18:56:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2358695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CasualDanger/pseuds/CasualDanger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray is new to the city and catches the eye of Ryan. But Ray is a mystery, and when Fake AH is tasked with bringing in the sniper that killed another gang's crew member, they must decide if they want to keep old alliances in place, or if Ray is a good enough shot to be worth the trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a tentative dip into this fandom and AU. I love all of the Fake AH stuff I've read on here, and I'd like to try it out. The nature of this story, however, is that Ray is not yet part of Fake AH. I'll update the tags as I move on. Let me know what you think and if I should continue!

The city of Los Santos wakes up late.  The smog and pollution make the sky retain its gray until almost noon, and by that time the city can’t shake its bleary eyes or stumbling nature.  Maybe Los Santos’ aversion to the sunshine is truly only the pollution.  Maybe Los Santos wakes up late because it was awake well into the night, carrying out the shady back-dealings and violent adventures the city was infamous for.

That was certainly the reason why it was already one in the afternoon and Ray was barely stirring from his dilapidated mattress on the floor of his apartment.  It had been a hard night of avoiding both the cops and the RT Crew after he was hired to snipe of their own.  He was only able to sneak back to his apartment at four in the morning, limping from a twisted ankle.

Ray scoffed as he turned over, rubbing his cheek against the cool pillow.  “When did the hard part of the job become the aftermath and not fuckin’ blowing the dude’s head off?”  He stretched awake and smirked.  “Heh.  Blowin’ dudes.”

“I gotta say, kid, this is not what I expected when I broke into your apartment.”

Ray launched himself out of bed, flailing over the side in a tangle of sheets, gun already in hand and aimed at the intruder’s chest.  Said intruder had his hands raised calmly.

He was big, taller and more muscular than Ray’s wiry frame.  Covering his face was a black skull mask that was deeply unsettling.  Ray didn’t lower the gun, but he wasn’t opposed to playing along.  “What did you expect to find?”

“Something a little swankier, to be honest.  You know, classy." 

“Yeah, well.  Puerto Ricans don’t get paid well, what can I say.”

The stranger’s hands dipped a bit, less on edge.  “Anyone who can make the shot you made last night should be getting paid an exorbitant amount of money.”

Ray finally took the time to stand up properly, gun still trained in Mr. Skull Mask’s direction.  “You here to offer me a job?” he asked.

The masked man laughed and shook his head.  It all seemed exaggerated without any facial cues.  “No.  My crew’s not really in need of any assassinations.  I just stopped by to ask why I had never heard of you before.”

Ray tightened his grip on the gun.  “Maybe everyone who meets me ends up dead.  If you’re not here for a job, dude, you’re going to have to leave.”

The intruder snorted.  “Alright.  I can see I’ve overstayed my welcome.”  He moved to the front door.  “You should probably lock the door behind me; you never know what crazies are lurking out there.”

Ray openly laughed at him.  “Yeah, I can see that. 

\--

Ryan clicked the door shut behind him utterly fascinated.  Probably the only man in Los Santos that could take him down, and he knew next to nothing about him.  He pulled out his phone as he exited the apartment complex.  “Hey, Geoff, I’ve got a recon job for us.”


	2. Chapter Two

Ryan walked into Geoff's apartment, mask in hand, whistling some upbeat tune that had been in his head since he watched the sniper wake up.  He had followed the young gunner after his incredible hit, memorized the apartment he had gone into, and then wandered the city for hours debating whether or not he should reveal himself to the other man.  In the end, he hadn't been able to stay away.  Faced with a previously absent professional respect for another human being, Ryan needed to speak to him, gauge him personally and make sure the sniper gauged him as well.  And, while that hadn't gone exactly how Ryan wanted it to, he had a feeling that their quick introduction wouldn't be the last time that they crossed paths.

Geoff yelled at him from behind the door the moment that he walked through the door.  "Where have you been, dickhead?  I told you to just observe what Burnie and Gus were up to, not kill their new guy!"

"One: new guy's name was Blaine.  And two: I didn't take that shot."

"Told you!" Michael called from the couch.  "If there are no unnecessary explosions involved, then it wasn't Ryan."

"Well you better hope the treaty stands and those idiots don't assume it was us.  I'd hate to have to answer Joel's questions."

Ryan shrugged.  "He's not that good at torturing.  I've seen some of the guys he's 'questioned;' he could do with a few pointers.

Jack entered the living room freshly showered.  "You are one scary motherfucker, Ryan."

Ryan gave her a shark's smile.

Michael also stood and moved towards the bar Geoff was standing behind.  "So, we were out dealing with those pricks that are trying to muscle into our airport, and Gavin is in his apartment nursing a giant hangover.  Where were you?"

"Finding our next job," Ryan replied.

"Yeah, you said that on the phone.  Only, we don't really do 'recon.'"

He sighed dramatically.  "Well, maybe it's time we branch out.  Geoff, there's someone we need to check out.  A sniper.  He's either new in town or he's been hidden well."

"Is this the guy who took that shot last night?" Michael cut back in.

"Yeah.  Impeccable shot.  I couldn't have made it in a thousand years.  The art of it seemed almost wasted on just some new guy in the RT Crew."

"So Rye-bread has a little crush," Michael cooed.  Jack snorted at the offended look on Ryan's face, but Geoff looked on less than amused.

"We can't look into that sniper, Ryan.  The second we know anything, we'd have to hand it over to Burns."

Jack looked over at Geoff in concern.  "Burnie's got a hundred people under him.  You think he cared about Blaine enough to go after the hired gun?"

"It's not about the dead guy."  He turned to Ryan.  "You were there.  How close did that bullet come to hitting Burnie?"

Ryan felt his mouth crawl back into a smile.  "Burnie and Blaine were facing each other, waiting for Gus.  The way Blaine fell?  The bullet went past Burnie and hit Blaine a little to the left from the center of his skull.  Burnie must have felt the bullet go by."

Geoff nodded along.  "Exactly.  Burnie's going to want to know who that the hubris to do that, _and_ who paid to have it done.  Inquiries like that without forking the information over to RT is liable to get us all bullets left of center."

Ryan huffed in annoyance, but said nothing.  He was outnumbered on the subject.

Geoff nodded again, the topic officially over with in his ind, and came back around the bar to go and sit on the couch.  Michael followed him.  Jack, however, studied Ryan a bit longer.

"You don't know anything already, right?" Jack asked.

Ryan stared back at her for a few moments.  "No," he finally settled on.  "I don't know anything." 


	3. Chapter Three

Everyone in Fake AH lives in the apartment complex Geoff owns and lives in, just to keep the circle small and because it's a nice enough building when they had all lived through worse conditions.  The unspoken open door policy makes it inevitable that they'll all end up in the same place, which is usually Geoff's pad, but sometimes ends up being Michael's if anyone starts the search by looking for Gavin.

A few days after Geoff's embargo on any information regarding the sniper found Ryan sulking on Michael's couch while the two younger members of Fake AH blew each other up on the XBox in front of him.  Ryan had hoped that he wouldn't have to actively disobey Geoff to get intel, had postulated that if he had run into him once, it would happen again.  He had heard through the back-channels he always left open that Michael's old gang from New Jersey was trying to get their sniper back, but Ryan didn't believe there was any correlation.  The gunman he had met had been for hire, and there was no way a group that low-level could pay for someone that skilled, or keep him as a member permanently.

He thought about casually bringing it up to Michael, but talk of his past was always touchy, and it would make the crew even more generally suspicious of him if he mentioned Jersey out of the blue.

A knock came from the front door and the three occupants were immediately on edge.  Geoff or Jack would have just made themselves at home like Ryan had an hour previously.  Michael stood up and motioned for the other two to stay where they were.  He picked up his gun and rounded the coffee table.  Gavin stood but, at Michael's glaring insistence, didn't follow.  Ryan stood as well and drew his own gun.

When Michael opened the door, he gasped audibly, and swiftly tucked his gun behind him with shaking hands.  Ryan had never seen him so surprised or in awe, and it was all because of some skinny kid, probably a few years younger than Michael and Gavin, who was sporting a look of trepidation on a face Ryan had absolutely seen before.

"Ray," Michael breathed out, as if he were invoking a spirit.

Ray shuffled forward, seemingly in desire of touching Michael, but then flinched back.  "Hey man," he said, his voice believably casual even though his body gave away his true emotion.  "I was in the neighborhood and figured I'd drop by."  Ray chuckled nervously.

Michael had no qualms about pulling Ray in for a hug.  Ray made a noise of surprise as he hurtled towards Michael, who hugged him so hard Ryan heard his hand smack across Ray's back.  Gavin and Ryan stood dumbfounded.  Gavin because he had never seen Michael react to something so emotionally, and Ryan because there, standing before him and crushed into Michael's embrace, was the sniper.

The sniper whose name was apparently Ray.  The sniper whose past included Michael.  Ryan should probably rethink his Jersey theory.

"Come in, come in," Michael said, pulling Ray in and kicking the door closed behind them.  Ray smiled softly and walked with Michael until he looked up and saw that they weren't alone.

And then he saw who it was that was also occupying the apartment.  He pointed at Ryan.  "Hey, you're--"

"The Mad King," Ryan cut in.  "Yeah, if you've been in this city for a little bit, you've probably heard of me.  Nice to meet a friend of Michael's."

Ray looked at him puzzled, but he didn't correct the charade.

Michael snorted, coming back to himself.  "Way to toot your own fucking horn.  Anyway, this is my good friend Ray.  I knew him from before I joined the crew.  Ray, this is Ryan and Gavin."

"Nice to meet you," Ray stuttered.  "Listen, Michael, I can't really stay for long, but I found out you were in Los Santos after I got here and I wanted to-- I wanted to catch up, I guess."

Michael frowned, concerned.  "Yeah, of course, man.  I'm really glad to see you.  If you need a place to crash, you can always stay here.  I owe you that much, Ray."

"Michael," Gavin said, "maybe you want to check with Geoff first?"

"Screw Geoff," Michael snarled suddenly.  "Ray's staying with me."

"Come on, dude, don't bully your friends," Ray joked.  "I've already got a place anyway, but I can't stay."

"Why not?  Ray, if you're here, then that means--"

"That means they left my collar a little too loose and I gave them the slip.  They'll be tracking me, and if they find me with you they'll take us both back, deal or no deal."  Ray chuckled.  "Like the game show, only with a lot more blood and bullets."

"What's he talking about, Michael?" Gavin squawked.  "Is someone gunning for you?"

Michael didn't acknowledge Gavin had talked.  "We can help you!  I can keep teaching you how to shoot, you can join the crew."

Ray smiled again, but it looked bitter.  "I don't need you to teach me how to shoot anymore, sorry to tell you."

Michael was just about to protest once more when Geoff and Jack walked in, followed closely by Burnie and Gus.  Geoff did not look happy that there was a stranger in the apartment, but he let it slide for more important matters.

"Ryan, Gavin, Michael," Geoff sighed deeply, "new guy.  Burnie and Gus are wondering if we'd look into the hit that went down a few days ago."

"Not wondering," Gus corrected.  "We're paying for the name of the hitman.  Matt's been keeping tabs on the radios and there's reason to believe your resident hothead may know something.  So, instead of sending him to Joel, we're putting some money on the line."

Everyone's eyes moved to Michael.  Ryan took a quick look at Ray and saw that his once tan skin was pale.

Michael looked around and shrugged.  "I don't know anyone who could make a shot like that, Burnie.  I'm sorry, but I can't help you."

Burnie laughed.  "Mikey, come on.  I got a call _from_ the Ragers!  And they tell me, 'Hey, you run Los Santos, you see everything, have you seen our sniper? He's a prized possession, and we want him back.'  And I tell them, 'Seen him?  He almost blew my damn head off!' I  _know_ you know him.  It's just a matter of how I get it out of you."

Michael's confused expression turned into a scowl.  Geoff moved over towards him minutely, anticipating violence, unsure of who would start it, but almost certain that it would start.

Jack looked around the room again.  "Guys," she said, placating, "I'm sure if Michael knew something, he'd say.  He's no longer loyal to the Ragers.  They cut him loose years ago."

"Yeah, they did," Burnie drawled, "and now I'm wondering why they did that.  Now I'm wondering if he's the sniper they're missing so dearly."

"Enough," Ray said.  Ryan had been watching him the whole time, studying him but unable to out him as the sniper and give him up to RT.

Everyone had now turned to look at Ray.  He looked calmer than Ryan anticipated.  "Enough," he repeated.  "It was me," he sighed, looking at Michael almost apologetically.  "I was the hired gun."

Burnie smiled.  "There, that wasn't so hard."

Gus rolled his eyes at his partner's theatricality.  "You're coming with us."

Ray went to move towards them, but Gavin surprisingly put a hand on his shoulder.

"Wait," he said.  "Los Santos has some rules, chaps.  You don't go after the one who pulled the trigger, you go after the one who wanted it pulled."

Gus stepped forward and roughly pulled Ray towards him and out of Gavin's grip.  Ray instinctively moved that direction and kept his eyes down.  "That's a rule that's enforced by us, Gav.  And it's waived if you have no leads as to who wanted the hit."  He dragged Ray again, further towards the door.  "Let's go.  We've got a few questions."

Michael went to follow them out, but Jack and Geoff held him back.

"No, no," he growled.  "You know what they'll do.  He can't go with them!"

"Relax," Jack soothed.  "He's just the assassin.  As soon as he says who paid him, they'll let him go."

Michael sagged against him.  "I know him.  He won't talk.  He'd never fucking talk."

The crew all looked around at each other, worried and confused and completely at a loss for what to do.


	4. Chapter Four

Ray made sure to keep his head down on the car ride to whatever hell he was being shipped off to.  Not blindfolding him was probably a bad thing; they expected him to come out of this predicament either not wanting to retaliate, or not being able to.  Ray almost turned around to look out the back, to see if he could make our the apartment building his only friend was living in, but he thought better.  What good would that do?  So he could stare longingly at the freedom Michael had been gifted, so what?  It would never be his, and look what he did with his first taste out of indentured servitude anyway.  Five seconds after breaking out of being the company sniper, he went freelance.  Five seconds after  _that,_ he found himself in an impossible situation with the largest gang in Los Santos.  You see, Ray didn't actually know the name of the person that hired him, but he did know one thing about this contract killing:

It had been an inside job.

* * *

 

Michael was still standing, pacing the kitchen where the others had chosen to sit.  None of them had said anything for the fifteen minutes that they had spent in this position, but Gavin periodically opened his mouth to ask a question only to close it just as quickly when he saw Michael's red and angry face.  

Finally, Geoff couldn't take it.  "How come you never mentioned this guy before?"

Michael paused in his pacing, flicking his eyes to Geoff before resuming his movement.

"Michael," Geoff said when he received no answer, "why haven't you mentioned him?"

"Because his entire shitty life is my fault!" Michael snapped.  "You really think the Ragers were just going to let me go?  Their first family-head was my  _father,_ Geoff.  No one was ever going to let me go, not unless," his voice cracked, "not unless someone took my place to make it worth their while."

"When we met, you said that you paid for your freedom," Gavin interjected.

"Ray paid."  Michael closed his eyes.  "Ray paid by taking my place.  Fucking Ragers," he muttered.

"I don't get it," Jack said.  "If he was a Rager already, how was he able to sell himself for you?"

Michael flinched and rounded on Jack.  "Don't fucking say it like that."

"It's because he wasn't a Rager," Ryan answered for him.  "When you left, he didn't yet know how to shoot.  He wasn't a gangster, he was something else."

"What does it matter?" Michael says quickly.  "Geoff, I've been here three years and I've never asked you for anything, but I'm asking now.  We have to get him back.  The only reason he gave himself up was for me, because they started to get suspicious of how I got here.   _Please_."

Geoff shook his head and sighed, but Gavin could see that he was being swayed, if only a small amount.  Geoff had a soft spot for Michael, had known when Gavin introduced the two of them that he had a painful past, but they had never really spoken of it.  Geoff had thought that, with how close Michael and Gavin were, Gavin would have been aware of all of this, but apparently they were all in the dark.

"Well," Ryan said, cutting the tense silence.  "I'm in."

"What?" Michael asked.

Ryan smiled, hoping the gesture looked as friendly as he was trying to be.  "Hey, I may not be a martyr, but I recognize one when I see one, and if you're telling me a sniper that good is always ready and willing to make a sacrifice play, then we need him."

Michael's lip curled up in a sneer.  "That's not why I want him back."

"No," Ryan replied dryly.  "You want him back because you feel guilty, but you know he'll forgive you.  Maybe he'll even be overly grateful when we take him in.  My reason sounds better, don't you think?"

Michael rolled his eyes but said nothing. 

"Listen," Geoff said slowly, "he's not one of us.  And as much as I appreciate what he did for you and what he is still obviously willing to do for you, I can't just shred the agreement we made with RT over one sniper we wouldn't even get to keep.  The second Burnie is done with him, the Ragers will pick him up."

Michael looked around the room, betrayed, and then stomped to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

Gavin sheepishly ducked his head.  "I'll just go after him," he said.  Then he, too, was gone.


	5. Chapter Five

The RT crew did not get creative in their interrogation of Blaine's killer.  The second the car stopped at what Ray assumed was their airplane hangar, a man who had opened Burnie's door for him escorted Ray down a set of stairs that led to a small room.  The space was unfurnished save for a pole that Ray was then handcuffed to and a chair that was already being occupied by someone else.  Once Ray was secured, the two of them were left alone.

"So, you must be Joel," Ray said conversationally.

Joel smiled.  "You must be the sniper the Ragers are dying to get back."

Ray tried to wince at the mention of his gang.  "It's probably easier to just call me Ray.  You know, it's shorter than the whole title."

Joel snorted.  "I don't really have to call you anything.  I just need to ask you some questions."

Ray gestured with his shackled hands.  "Go ahead."

Joel leaned forward.  "Who paid you to kill Blaine?"

Ray looked at Joel.  He should, by all accounts, tell him.  Whatever in-house dispute going on that had gotten that guy's head on the chopping block wasn't Ray's business, but it was definitely Joel's.  If he told him, right now, no fuss, they'd certainly let him go.  But Ray had only ever been in two professions, both without an inkling of honor.  If he wanted to pretend that he was honorable, that he was worth something, he had to make the morals up himself.

"I got paid for this job, Joel.  That means I was paid to pull a trigger and keep my mouth shut about it.  So, as shitty as this is going to go for me, I'm going to have to keep my mouth shut."

Joel nodded absently for a few beats, then lunged out of his chair and hit the side of Ray's head into the pole.  He was instantly knocked out, his cuffs making an awful metal screeching sound as he slumped to the cement floor.  Joel turned out the lights and left him for now.

When Ray came to a few hours later, the room was pitch black and he was alone.

* * *

 

Michael still wasn't speaking to anyone the next day.  He had joined the crew in Geoff's apartment for breakfast, but that was just a passive aggressive message to the rest of them: "I'm still here, but you're still assholes."

When Gavin had struck out the night before five minutes after following Michael to his room, Geoff went in there and made it clear to Michael that under no circumstances was he to jeopardize the safety of Fake AH by going to retrieve Ray.

Ryan smirked to himself as he poured coffee into his cup.  Geoff had explicitly told  _Michael_ not to do anything, but Ryan had never been given the same instructions.  He figured that if Ray hadn't come back to them by now, Michael was right and he was refusing to talk.  So, if Ryan could find out who ordered the hit himself, then he could go and tell Burnie, rendering Ray's questioning useless.  Getting him into Fake AH and out of the Ragers would be difficult if Michael still gave a shit about them, but if he didn't then that problem could be solved by a few sticky bombs under a few cars.  He'd have to spend a day in Jersey, but it would be worth it for Ray.  There was something alluring about the precision he had, the calm and casual demeanor that he exuded even in the face of his own nervousness, and yes, the martyrdom intrigued Ryan to no end.  The fact that Ray would jump on a grenade made Ryan want to protect him from it.  Or, at least, refrain from throwing the grenade himself.

Michael stayed just long enough for them to see how pissed off he still was, and then he shoved himself out of his chair and went back out into the hallway.

"Don't worry," Ryan said to the others, "I'll talk to him."

"Hey, he doesn't want to hear about how much of a boner you've got for his friend's sniping skills," Geoff called after him.

Ryan didn't provide a rebuttal.  He followed Michael to the elevator.  Michael jumped when he turned around, but rolled his eyes and held the door open for him.

"Where are we going?" Ryan asked.

Michael sighed deeply.  "To the garage.   _I'm_ going to take a drive."

" _We_ should take my car.  We need to talk, and I know the perfect place."

"You realize how creepy that sounds when it comes out of your mouth, right?"

The elevator dinged and released them.  Michael complied and they took Ryan's car.

"Where are we going?" Michael parroted.

"Fake AH's hangar.  We need somewhere quiet and secure, and Geoff doesn't have any security cameras in there."

Michael didn't ask why they needed somewhere they couldn't be seen or heard, just kept his eyes out the window and thought of his past, and his friend.  And those damn RT assholes that decided to break their own honor rules when it was convenient.  As they drove, Michael even saw Burnie's car.

"They're not even hiding," Michael muttered.

"They didn't do anything wrong," Ryan reasoned.  He parked just outside the hangar and they made their way inside.  Ryan turned to Michael once he reached the middle and double-checked the corners for cameras.  "I want to help your friend.  I figure if we can deduce who ordered the hit, we can give over that information ourselves, and they'll give him to us."

Michael gaped at him, stunned.  "How do we do that?"

Ryan paused, thinking.  "I know where Ray was living," he said tentatively.

"How the fuck did you find that out?"

"I followed him, after he killed that Blaine guy."

"So, when Jack asked if you knew anything, by 'No' you mean, 'I know what he looks like, what car he's driving, and where he lives.'"

Ryan shrugged.  "He didn't use a car."

Michael laughed and shook his head.  "Usually, I'd bust your balls for lying to the crew, but good work."

"Tomorrow, we'll go to his apartment, see what we can find there.  Hopefully, that'll give us the next step, and we can work backwards."

"If we wait until tomorrow, they'll have had him for three days!"

"Two days.  Yesterday doesn't count," Ryan corrected.  "We have to wait until tomorrow because Geoff will be pissed if he thinks we're up to something, which means we've got to go back, do whatever shitty heist he's got planned for us today, and bide our time."

"That's such bullshit," Michael sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"They won't kill him, Michael."

Michael looked Ryan in the eyes.  He looked serious and sincere, more so than Michael had ever seen before.  Michael nodded, moved at the display, and they left the hangar.

Below them, Ray struggled against his cuffs as Joel pulled him into a stranglehold and held his mouth shut, keeping him silent.  Neither of them could make out the words of what was said above them, but the footsteps were clear.  Ray passed out from lack of oxygen before he could determine whether the footsteps were coming closer or leaving. 


	6. Chapter Six

The next day, Michael and Ryan slipped out early in the morning, driving the ten minutes to where Ryan had initially spoken to Ray.  The place, when they broke into it, was exactly how Ryan remembered: one mattress on the floor, one lamp, no pictures or personal effects, a backpack full of crumbled clothes, and nothing of any value.  Michael's mouth was just a thin line as he unnecessarily walked around the room, touching each surface as if they could reveal to him anything important.

Ryan spilled the backpack of its contents and dug through the clothes.  In the front pocket of a pair of cargo shorts was a wallet.  

"Xavier Raymond Brown?" Ryan asked incredulously.

Michael snorted. "That's not his name.  It must be a fake.  And with a shitty name like that, it must be Kerry's work."

"Aw, I like it," a voice said from the now open doorway.  "We can call him X-Ray!"

When Ryan and Michael whirled towards the sound, they found Gavin grinning at them.

"Gavin, what the fuck are you doing here?"

"I'm helping you get your old boy back! I liked him when I met him and I've never seen Ryan care about another human being before, so I'm here to assist."

"You met him for five minutes," Michael countered.  Gavin just shrugged in response and looked around.

"So," he said, "where's the gun?"

"Oh." Ryan looked around the room again.  "Damn."

"So, let me get this straight: you two have been sitting in a sniper's hideout for ten minutes and no one has looked for the sniper rifle?"

"Relax, asshole," Michael said, moving towards the bed.  "I've got an idea."  He knelt down and lifted the mattress.  There, underneath, was the rifle.  Michael pulled it out to inspect it.  "It's nice," he said.  "Good quality.  No idea why it's fuckin' pink though; that seems like a bad idea."

"What's that written on the side?" Ryan asked.

Michael flipped it over and looked at the stock of the rifle.  Carved in was the word "whore."

Michael's mouth was back to thin and profoundly unhappy.  "Let's go find Kerry," he said.  He threw the gun back down on the bed and stormed out.

* * *

 

Ray sputtered and gasped for air when Joel pulled his head out of the bucket of water.

"Come on, kid," Joel teased.  "You and I both know you weren't trained to take this.  Just tell me what you know."

"I know you're a giant dick," Ray coughed out.

Joel slapped him across the face.  "And you would know one when you saw one, is that right?"

"Good guess."  Ray was shaking now, the cold water and the barely lit concrete room seeping into him and taking a toll.  They had barely been feeding him as well, and Joel was right: he wasn't going to last much longer on idealism alone.  Joel stood up and reached for the light.

"Wait," Ray pleaded.  "Wait, don't turn it off."

"But I'm leaving."  Joel motioned towards the door.

"Then don't leave! Don't leave."

Joel smiled triumphantly.  "You know what I want, Ray.  I'll let you think about it a little longer."

Ray whimpered in the dark, and wished he had taken the time while in Burnie's car to turn around and look at the Fake AH building, just once.  Just to say goodbye.


	7. Chapter Seven

Michael and Ryan piled into Ryan's car once again while Gavin followed them in his own, and the three of them made it to the auto repair shop Kerry worked out of in record time.  As soon as they stopped, Michael took off into the office, but Ryan and Gavin hung back a bit, waiting to see how it played out.

"Did he say anything to you?" Gavin asked.  "Maybe about a certain word on a certain gun?"

Ryan rolled his eyes.  "Real subtle, Gav.  No, he didn't say anything.  You really think he's in the mood to talk?"

Kerry came flying out of the office doors and landed at their feet.  Gavin nodded.  "I can see now that he is not," he responded.

Michael marched out soon after Kerry picked himself up and dusted himself off.

"Ryan? Kerry seems to be less intimidated by me.  You want to help out?"

"Well," Ryan sighed, stepping closer, "I'm reluctant to torture such a useful figure in Los Santos, but I'm not averse to it."  He pulled out a knife he had sheathed behind him.  "I've never seen you bleed, Kerry."

Kerry looked up at him as if he was staring at Death itself.  He had a few false starts, but finally kept himself together enough to utter, "What do you want to know?"

"Ray Narvaez, Jr.  You gave him a fake identity.  When?"

"Like a week ago," Kerry said.  "Maybe eight days?"  Kerry cringed in anticipation of a blow, but Ryan didn't move.

"A week ago?" Gavin asked.  "That's before the hit.  Does he have a lot of money?"

"No, he was never allowed to keep it," Michael said absently, thinking.

"What do you mean by that?"

"What? Nothing.  Shut up, Gavin."

"Shut up, both of you.  Now, Kerry, how was Ray able to pay for this?" Ryan asked.

"Uh, he didn't.  He was told it was a gift, that everyone in Los Santos gets one freebie identity when they come to me."

"No, they don't, you cheap shit," Michael retorted.  "Now, what's the truth?"

"That is the truth!  That's what I told him."

"And who  _actually_ paid."  Ryan held his knife up to the sunlight and inspected it.

"Come on! You can't ask me that!"

"Why not?" Michael snarled.  He was already getting impatient.

"Because you're the  _second_ best gang in this city, and I now who has the biggest knife."

Ryan stopped and stood back.

"What?" Gavin asked.  "What are you thinking?"

"They paid for his ID," Ryan muttered.  "The RT Crew paid, but they didn't want him to know about it."

"And what the fuck does that mean?" Michael asked, fidgeting in place.

"I guess it means they wanted him to stay.  And to not take any jobs, if they're paying for expensive shit like this so he doesn't have to."

"Well, that backfired," Gavin laughed.  "He killed one of their own."

"Did it backfire?"  Ryan turned to Gavin.  Kerry scurried back into his office, no longer needed.  "Think about it: why waste a hitman on a nobody when you could pay any mugger off the street to stab him while he's walking home?"

"Plus," Michael added, "you said it yourself: that shot was  _hard_.  Whoever paid him wasn't just killing Blaine, they were testing Ray's skills."

"Holy shit," Ryan said, "RT Crew put the hit out.  It was an inside job."

"But they took Ray.  You aren't going to torture someone for information you already know."

"But you would to test loyalty.  He won't talk.  That means they know he'll keep his moth shut when  _they_ want him to.  Does Burnie even  _have_ a sniper on his payroll?"

Michael sighed.  "He does now."

* * *

 

When Ray cracked his eyes open weakly, it wasn't Joel who had turned the light on, but the leader of the RT Crew himself.

"Sorry," Ray joked, "I didn't have time to clean my room."

Burnie chuckled.  "That's a good one, Ray.  How are you feeling?"

"Depends on how you want me to be feeling.  Because whatever that is, I'm the opposite of that."

"Ah, we're at the 'defiance for the sake of defiance' stage."  Burnie laughed once again.  "I like you, Ray.  I like your nature, I like your loyalty, and I like your skills."

Suddenly, Ray missed the man in the skull mask.  "You going to offer me a job?"

"Yes, actually," Burnie said.  "Yes, I am."

Ray just looked on, stunned.

"I'm not going to pretend that I brought you to Los Santos, Ray, but I damn sure knew who you were when you showed up.  When some stupid little gang in Jersey takes control of their entire city, guys like me notice.  And we also notice when their control rests on the head of one sniper."

"You set this up," Ray said.  His voice was monotone, dead.

"I set this up," Burnie agreed.  "And I'm sorry for the blood and the water and whatever else Joel did to you down here, that weirdo.  But you can understand my desire to make sure that I know you've got some honor in you before I spend the money to snag you from the Ragers."

"They let me go?"

Burnie grimaced.  "Let me rephrase that: before I offered the Ragers money for you, got rejected, and then killed Mike and took your ownership by force."

Ray sagged against his cuffs and the pole in relief at first, but then the rest of the sentence clicked into place.

"So, you own me now?"

"That's correct."  Burnie smiled.  "Welcome to the team."

"No," Ray said.

"What do you mean, no?"

Ray took a deep breath, but for the life of him, all of his energy and wit was gone.  "They owned me because of a debt.  My debt is now paid, so I'm free.  I won't work for you.  Just kill me."

"You're really that upset about your changing hands?  I promise, I'll get you a gun that's a normal color."

"Just kill me," he said again.  He was leaning heavily against the pole, trying to rest his cheek against the cool metal.

"Tell you what," Burnie said, slapping his hands down on Ray's shoulders and rubbing, as if they were in the corner of a boxing match together.  "I'll let you think on it for five more minutes.  That's long enough for me to go get Joel and come back down here with a gun of my own.  And, if you still have the same answer, I'll have Joel put a bullet in your head, and you can join your boss again, okay?"  Burnie turned out the light and once again subjected Ray to the pitch black of the room.

"Just kill me," Ray said to the darkness.  The darkness did not comply.


	8. Chapter Eight

"So, how do we find him?" Gavin asked.

Michael laughed humorlessly.  "We don't."

"What? That's ridiculous!"

"He's free from the Ragers now, Gavin.  Burnie will pay him, take care of him."

"Why do I get the feeling Ray wasn't just your friend," Ryan said tentatively.

"We weren't fucking, if that's what you're trying to say.  Ray was. . ."  Michael closed his eyes.  "The Ragers are small, but they've got their fingers in everything.  My father was a piece of shit, you know?  But he knew what he was doing when it came to getting rich.  He had his vices, though.  One of them," Michael clenched his fists.  "One of them, he took out on me."

"Did he hit you?" Gavin asked.  His voice was shaking in place of his body; he wanted to embrace his friend but could see it wouldn't be welcome.

Michael's smirk was bitter.  "Not exactly.  I was fourteen when it started, fifteen when my Uncle Mike found out.  He was furious, but it wasn't like he could just kill his boss, his brother.  So, he pointed my dad in another direction."  Michael looked at the two of them for a split second before averting his eyes again.  They were wet.  "Ray taking my spot as a member of the Ragers wasn't the first time he replaced me.  He came in through the human trafficking ring operating out of our docks, only his dad couldn't pay the full amount, so they killed the guy and Ray had to - had to -"

"He was a prostitute for the Ragers," Ryan finished for him.

"To settle the debt, yeah,"  Michael said.  "So, when Uncle Mike saw what my father was doing, he had Ray take my place.  I went to live with Mike, and Ray moved into my room."  Michael laughed, but it was no more than a heaving sob.  "He was fifteen, too.  Similar build, similar height.  Mike was smart about it.  And, I don't fucking know why, but Ray, he - we became friends after that.  My father was - but he wanted to be friends.  And he was fuckin' funny, too.  Bruises all over, 'cuz Mike had him keep working the corners even though he was with my dad, but every time I saw him he was so laid back, never worried or angry.  He deserves the money they'll give him, the money that RT Crew pulls in."

"They won't give him money," Ryan said.  He had his phone out, reading a text he had just received.

"How do you figure?"

"I have Kdin listening to the radio in case the Ragers mobilize.  Apparently, someone killed your uncle last night.  The entire underbelly of the city is going nuts trying to muscle in on their turf.  How much you want to bet Burnie killed Mike so he could  _own_ Ray, not employ him?"

Michael gripped at his hair.  His anger had nowhere to go.  "What the fuck do we do then?"

"Where would Burnie keep him?"  Gavin asked.

"I don't know.  The only time I've ever even seen Burnie on the road was when we went to the hangar."

"You saw Burnie that far into our territory?"

"Those bastards!" Ryan exclaimed.  "That piece of shit is using my equipment."  He jogged to the driver's side of his car.  "We're going to get him, right now.  Get in.  Gavin, follow us to the hangar.  I have a feeling we'll need the room."  They all piled into their cars and sped off.

"He's in your fucking hole, isn't he," Michael deadpanned.

"Yeah, which is why I'm driving very fast and you probably shouldn't distract me."

"I don't get what's so scary about a tiny cement room."

"No windows," Ryan explained, "one light that the captive can't reach.  The sun literally rises and sets on your torturer.  Makes someone pretty confused and hopeless when they don't want the guy beating the shit out of them to leave so the light can stay on."

"What if we get there and he's one of them?"

Ryan looked over at his passenger briefly.  "He's not a whore or a slave.  Not on our watch, okay?  They won't take him, Michael."

Michael said nothing.

Burnie was just walking out of the empty hangar, cell phone in hand, when the three from Fake AH came screaming in and parked in front of him.  Ryan reached into his glove compartment and pulled out a pistol.  Burnie hung up his call and waited patiently for them to come to him.

They all got out of their cars slowly.  "Let me handle this," Ryan whispered.

"Lads!" Burnie called out.  "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Burns," Ryan called back, "you've been using the hole, and I'd like it back."

"You're in the nick of time, then.  Ray's going to get a bullet as soon as Joel gets out of bed and shows up."

"No!" Michael yelled.  "You don't need to kill him!"

"I do, actually," Burnie said.  "He doesn't want to work for me.  He's actually quite ready to die.  You should have heard him ask for it."  Burnie smiled at them while Gavin held Michael back.

A third car rolled up, but it wasn't Joel.

"You fuckers are in so much trouble," Geoff said as he slammed his door shut.  "I'm going to kick the shit out of all of you."

"Now is not the time, Geoff," Ryan rebutted.

"Right, right.  Listen, you can't kill that kid, Burnie.  I've got a pile of cash in that truck for you if you don't, and, if the money doesn't interest you and you still want to kill him, Jack up there is going to shoot you."  Geoff pointed up to the roof of the hangar and Burnie turned to see Jack waving at him, sniper rifle in hand.  "She's a much worse shot than Ray, but I think she'd get you eventually."

"I can't let you have this sniper, Geoff," Burnie said.  "He's too good, you'll -"

"Never use him against you or your crew," Geoff finished.  "Just like I won't retaliate for you using my shit without permission.  I've never betrayed you before, Burns.  But, he's one of us."

Burnie sighed.  "I can see that I'm outnumbered."  He pulled his phone out and called Joel back.  "Change of plans," he said.  "We're letting him go."  He hung up and moved towards his own car.  "Remember," he told Geoff, "I've got six guys for your every one.  You can't muscle me out of this city."

"Wouldn't dream of it!" Geoff called as Burnie sped off.  He waved Jack down from the roof and turned to the three on the ground.  "Let's go get him, assholes."

"How'd you find us?" Michael asked.

"Gavin called me."  Gavin chuckled nervously as all eyes turned to him.

With Michael at the front, they opened the cement room and peered inside.    Michael hurried in and turned on the light.  Ray had his eyes closed, his wrists red and swollen from the cuffs, his right shoulder leaning on the pole he was cuffed to.  He looked thinner than he had been when he showed up at Michael's door, his cheeks sunken in and his face bruised both by Joel's fists and a lack of sleep.

It took Ray's brain a few moments to recognize that the light was on.  By the time he opened his eyes, Ryan was picking the lock on the handcuffs and Geoff was yelling at Gavin to go find some water.

"What the fuck," Ray croaked.  Michael's eyes snapped up to his face from where they were surveying the damage to the rest of him.

"Thank God you're awake," Michael sighed.  "Ryan is getting the cuffs off and then we're going home."

Ray couldn't help it.  His eyes began to water, and his breaths came shorter and shorter as he stared into Michael's eyes.  "I'm tired," he said, his voice warbling in and out.  "I'm so tired, Michael.  I don't want to go home.  Don't make me go home."

"What? Ray, no. That's not what I -"

"Just kill me," Ray shrieked between gasps.  "Just kill me instead.  Just kill me."

"Ray," Michael yelled back. "Ray, _please._ " He tried to touch his friend's face, but Ray was uncuffed now and he launched himself backwards, panicking.

"Michael," Ryan said calmly, "step back please."

"Fuck off," Michael spat back.  "I know him, I'll get through to him."

"Come on," Geoff said, grabbing Michael by the arm and pulling him back into the doorway.  Michael struggled but allowed himself to be pulled.

Ryan took off his mask and crept closer to where Ray had pushed himself against the wall.  He knelt in front of him at eye level.

"Do you want the mask?" he asked.

Ray's eyes stopped flickering around the room and focused on Ryan. "What?"

"People don't fuck with me because of the mask.  They're afraid of what's underneath, no matter who is wearing it.  The mask is what really makes me the Mad King in Los Santos.  You and I are going to walk out of here right now, and I don't want anyone fucking with you.  So, do you want the mask?"

Ray took a few more gulps of air.  He nodded.  Ryan nodded back and gingerly placed his skull mask over Ray's face, more aware of how much trauma 23 years of life can hold than he had ever been before.  Once the mask was in place, Ryan stood up and put his hand out.

Ray just stared at it.  "I don't think I can walk," he said.

"Anything broken?" Ryan asked.  Behind him, Geoff, Jack, Gavin, and Michael watched silently.

Ray nodded.  "At least one rib.  It's happened before.  It felt like this. I haven't stood up since they put me in here, either."

"Okay," Ryan said.  "I'm going to pick you up, but it might hurt.  Ribs are tricky."  Ryan leaned down again and pulled Ray's arm over his shoulders.  Then, he got one arm underneath Ray's knees and picked him up.  Ryan was even more alarmed at how light he was.

Ray didn't even make a noise.  Ryan took him all the way out to Geoff's truck and then gingerly set him in the backseat.  Michael quickly followed into the back, and Jack joined them in the car up in shotgun.  Geoff clapped Ryan on the shoulder and then he, too, got in the car and drove off.  Gavin and Ryan separated into their own cars, and they reconvened back at Geoff's apartment building.


	9. Chapter Nine

By the time Ryan got to their apartments, everyone else was already inside.  He had stopped to buy another mask just in case Ray didn't want to give up the original.  He went to Geoff's apartment but that was empty, so he went down to Michael's, but that apartment was also dark.  At a loss, he wandered down the hallway.

Gavin's door swung open.  "Where have you been, you pleb?  We're all in here."  Gavin pulled him in and shut the door.  "Ray's in my room.  We just got him to lay down, but Michael is keeping him awake.  Jack thinks he might have a concussion."

"Probably," Ryan said.  "So, where's Geoff?"

"Sweeping everyone's apartments for bugs that the RT Crew might have put there," Jack said, coming out of Gavin's bedroom.  "I see you've got a new mask."

"In case the kid wanted to keep the one I gave him, yeah."

Jack grimaced.  "It's been thrown out.  He vomited when we got here, but he'll be glad to know you're not pissed about it."

"Was he worried?" Ryan asked incredulously.  "He seems a little too out of it for courtesies like that."

"You're half right," Gavin said.  His face was very solemn.  "He thought it was a gift from Andrew, Michael's father, at first.  Kept apologizing, said he'd make it better."  He sighed, sitting down in a heap on his couch.  "I'd be surprised if Michael ever leaves his side again."

"Seriously," Jack nodded.  "And can we talk about how Michael never told us any of this?  I had no idea his childhood was so rough."

"I don't think he does, either," Ryan speculated.  "He's shoved off all of his trauma because someone  _saved_ him.  To be honest, I think he's more fucked up about abandoning his friend knowing full well what Ray would become."

"Alright, where's our newest addition," Geoff asked, barging into Gavin's apartment.  "We've all got to figure this out."

"Geoff, he's been here twenty minutes," Jack said.  "Let him rest."

"He can't rest.  That kid has a concussion if I've ever seen one."

Geoff opened the door to Gavin's bedroom.  More curious than argumentative, the three others followed him in.  Ray was sitting up in Gavin's bed, drinking from a water bottle that Michael was holding up for him.  He flinched, startled, when they all came in, so Michael removed the bottle to allow Ray to cough and hold his throbbing head.  His wrists were still an angry and swollen red.

Once he gained back control of his throat, Ray forced himself to relax, to keep the panic at bay.  "You sending me back now?" he asked Geoff.  Michael looked ready to yell, so Ray turned slowly to him and said, "Chill, dude, what did I tell you about the bullying?"  Michael was pacified, but turned to glare at Geoff.

Geoff deflated, as if Ray's question wounded him physically.  "No, kid," he said.  "I know what they were doing to you there.  I'm not a monster."

"You're right," Ray said, tilting his head listlessly.  "I know monsters and you're not one of them."

"He always this poetic?" Geoff snorted at Michael, deflecting the compliment.

Michael shrugged.  "Maybe in his head.  Usually, he's a little less intense."

Ray looked at Michael and then back to Geoff, seeming to wait until they addressed him directly to speak.

"How are you feeling?" Geoff asked.

Ray looked shocked for a moment before he schooled his expression and shrugged.  "Not my first time getting beat up.  Should be used to it, I guess, but it's been a while.  When they made me a sniper they stopped making me suck dick for money.  I've never been hit for being a sniper before."  He chuckled.  "It's like an achievement or something."

Geoff laughed.  "Yeah, kid, I bet it is.  Can you tell us anything Burnie said?"

Ray shrugged, then winced at the neck movement.  "He offered me a job.  Said that Mike was dead, and that I belonged to the RT Crew now."  Ray turned to Michael again.  "I'm sorry about Mike.  I know you were closer to him than to Andrew."

Michael shook his head.  "They were both assholes.  I'm not very broken up about it."

"Still," Ray smiled, "it's what a better friend would say."  He and Michael laughed lightly together before Ray blinked and seemingly remembered something.  "I left my gun in my apartment," he told the room.  "I need it back."

"No, you don't," Gavin piped up.  "No one needs a pink gun."

Ray grimaced.  "Well, it makes the shots harder.  But the gun was given to me.  They'll be mad if I lost it."

"They won't be mad," Geoff said.

Ray looked very young with his suddenly frightened eyes.  "The Ragers gave me that gun specifically, there was something written on it and - and I need it back."

Geoff came all the way into the room. standing across from Michael on Ray's other side.  He tentatively put a hand on Ray's shoulder.  "You're not going back, Ray.  If you don't want to go back to Jersey, you won't."

Ray sighed in relief at first but shook his head.  "You don't want me here, Geoff.  What I was able to do for them - they'll want me back, especially now that they have to start over without Mike."

"What is it that you did for them?" Ryan asked.

Ray looked at him for a few moments, then looked down into his lap.  "I gave them the key to the city."

"Holy shit!" Michael yelled.  Ray winced but kept his eyes down.

"Someone want to explain what the fuck a key to the city is?" Geoff asked.

Michael jumped in, his voice still loud from shock and excitement.  "The Ragers, maybe every mob in Newark, had this theoretical concept to take control of all the territories.  It's called getting the key to the city.  You take out every family head in the city within a five hour period, then you snatch up everyone who comes running to join the only leadership left in town and mow down everyone trying to keep their land."

"Technically, I only did the killing every head within five hours thing.  Only, it was more like two hours."  Ray smiled with half of his mouth sardonically before his straight and serious face returned.

"Holy shit, indeed," Jack said, dumbfounded.

"So you set up the Ragers to take control of the whole city," Geoff prompted.

Ray nodded.  "Then they had me wait while everyone else went out and cleaned up the people resisting.  And I was sitting there alone, and I just couldn't do it anymore.  I was a hooker and then I was a killer for these guys and I just couldn't do it.  I figured if I escaped, they would only go after me, not Michael, so I could just sit and wait until I got mowed down myself.  Maybe take a nap or something, you know?"  Ray took a shuddering sigh.  "But I got here and, yeah, that Kerry guy gave me the ID for free, but I still needed a place to crash, something to eat, something to fucking wear.  I left with literally nothing, just the gun.  But I could -" he turned to Michael.  "I couldn't do  _that_ anymore.  I spent so long being just an object for those people.  I just wanted someone else to hurt for once.  So I took a sniper job."

Michael looked at Ray, eyes wide and mouth open, but utterly at a loss for words.  

Geoff saved him.  "Listen to me," he said.  Ray turned reluctantly to him.  "I may be an asshole, and we may not know each other, but you can trust me on this: those pieces of shit will never touch you again.  You're going to stay here so we can fix you up and maybe fuckin' feed you something, and then, if you  _want_ to join Fake AH, you can.  If not, we'll get you another ID and you can go wherever you want."

Ryan could't help but smile. Geoff was notorious for feigning indifference until it mattered, and then being fiercely protective of his own.  And, Ryan wasn't above thinking, he was glad that Geoff considered Ray worthy of that protection.

"I don't know how to be anything else but a criminal," Ray said, "but I wouldn't mind being your sniper.  If you need one, that is."

"We'll find the need," Michael interjected.

Geoff smiled and nodded, and didn't regret a damn thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first part of a possibly multi-part universe, but Chapter Nine will be the end of this particular story. Let me know what you think if you want! I sometimes reply, haha.


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